It aches, the sore at the centre of my being,
It happened last night when the red haze clouded
The last bits of my shredded sense of morale,
Which let desperation slowly creep into my vacant heart,
Which once stood tall and brave and strong,
With paradise around in full bloom.
But that was eons ago, and since then, many angels have fallen.
I am a mere mortal, and now I stand like a thunderstruck tree,
Stripped all of the divine grace that caused my heart to glow differently…
The same eyes unlike before, the pride, the life, the zest have forsaken,
The skin though young and intact seems wounded by a thousand cuts,
And wrinkles and burns, as if the flesh emanates and vaporizes like guilt.
It’s a tug of war, between my left and right, truths and lies
I chose fantasy from beautiful lies over satisfaction from ugly truths,
That arouse disgust, I was shunned then in the name of impracticality.
And now I am one of them, which bows me down with regret and shame.
My sore, wounded core reminds me of my shredded insides.
That broken pride in me, disdainfully questions me from the dirty mirror,
That why, why why I broke down under that little arch of wishes unfulfilled?
That of all people in the world, I lost my virginity to me…